california dreamin'
by laurelsalexis
Summary: Rafael's only been in California for approximately forty eight hours. Not that he is counting. If he did happen to be keeping track the number is definitely forty eight hours and forty seven minutes, but he's definitely not doing that.


Rafael's only been in California for approximately forty eight hours. Not that he is counting. If he did happen to be keeping track the number is definitely forty eight hours and forty seven minutes, but he's definitely not doing that. Rather his thoughts are on the utter wreck he's made of his own life and how warm California is.

It's sixty degrees as he looks down at the app, standing in Nick's kitchen, more focused on his phone than the man making them something to eat. Picadillo. Since Nick determined that there was too sad a look on his face, or something to such an effect. He tuned out the moment he felt the pity. He had enough pity.

One of the reasons he was in California in the first well.

Nick was reason number one and needing to get out of the city that had raised him and destroyed him was number three. Pity falling right in the middle and so easily whisking his thoughts away. He prefers to not talk about it and to Nick's credit he hasn't asked. Much. He still has that all too pushy way about him where one damn look can make Rafael want to give him something honest. Not always interested in building up walls.

Being on the west coast is supposed to relax him or that's at least what everyone keeps telling him. He thought it was bull he moment Liv said it but as he sits there he definitely knows it's bull.

He's just hot. All the time. He normally runs a touch hot, unless he's feeling ill to which he finds himself freezing. Not ill as he sits there and sends Liv a text in reply telling her that things are fine. He is fine. He's just hot and wants to rip his own skin off.

A touch dramatic. Just a touch.

His green eyes find Nick standing over the hot stove and he looks fine. In both senses of the word. Has half a mind to tell him he didn't need to put his shirt back on after they made a total mess of his couch. Before Nick can meet his eye and make some comment about how he keeps staring his eyes fall back to his phone.

Liv sends another picture of Noah that makes him smile, returning the sentiment that he does miss him, too. They are on different life paths now. Maybe always and it took him so long to realize that he needed to escape the city.

It's not important enough to waste the last of his brain power on. Rather opening up the weather app on his phone that he just might, might, be stalking. He knows just how stupid it is that he cannot help himself from opening it and getting facts. He does it anyway. Each and every time.

"It's thirty seven degrees." Rafael mutters out, a roll of his eye, a soft scoff as he once again looks at Nick.

"What?"

"In New York." Words spoken as if Nick should just know what he's talking about. "It's thirty seven and it's sixty here. It's raining Nick and it's sixty degrees."

He shrugs, hiding the smile that is nothing but pure amusement. "You get used to it."

"It's raining and it's still sixty." He stands before he goes crazy from just sitting there. His energy is at all time highs as of late, definitely means he needs to kick the coffee habit a bit, since he's definitely not putting out any more energy than he's taking in. " **Sixty**."

"Rafi." Nick lets out a soft laugh, unable to bite back. "I thought you were supposed to be relaxing."

"I guess you didn't do a very good job."

Nick scoffs. "Remind me, how fast did you cum?"

"Shut up." He won't even dignify that with an answer, stealing a bite off the spoon sitting in the pan. It's hot but he doesn't bother to cool it off. "Needs more cumin."

"You always say that."

"It always needs more cumin." He doesn't bother waiting for Nick to add it, rather putting probably a hair too much in. He likes it. "Better."

"If you ruined it…"

"I didn't ruin it."

Still, Nick steals the spoon back, giving it a few stirs before tasting it, a long pause. "It's edible."

"It was only inedible once."

"Twice."

"Hey," Rafael rolls his eyes, "it was once and I was distracted."

"It was twice and yes, you were distracted." A knowing smirk finding Nick as he stepped closer. "You're easy to distract."

"You're ridiculous." Only he's smiling, not minding being teased at all. For once. He grabs Nick by the shirt, tugging him so he's close enough that he can smell the lingering scent the beach left on him from earlier. He smells good, eyes shutting as he inhales softly, committing the moments to memory. He's not really sure what exactly is going to happen and the way everything has been falling apart it's almost as if he lets go, lets on moment slip by, Nick will, too. "Too bad you don't have one of these 'kiss the cook' aprons."

"Oh, yeah? Is that what you want? To kiss the cook?" His voice drops in tone, hand finding Rafael's hip.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather his gaze drops to his lips. Lips he swears he can spend forever kissing, until they're swollen. Even better when they're wrapped around him. Later. A thought he barely holds onto and it's the scent of the food filling the kitchen that makes him keep things at least somewhat decent. He kisses Nick without bothering to speak, the kiss an answer in itself.

It's needy yet soft, Rafael pushing himself against Nick so much so that he pushes back until his own back is digging into the counter. "You're food." He murmurs, only long enough to take a sharp breath, back to kissing him, arms moving from the front of him to around him, holding him close, tight. "It's gonna burn."

"I don't care." Nick dismisses with an ease that California has given him.

Rafael only completely breaks from when he has to and when the food is definitely beginning to burn, causing his nose to twitch. "Now who is the one easy to distract?"

It's not lost how Nick rolls his eyes, reaching over to turn the stove off, not caring that dinner is definitely in the beginning stages of being ruined. "Shut up and kiss the cook."


End file.
